


i'm a soldier (wounded so i must give up the fight)

by MageOfCole



Series: Cole Does Whumptober 2020 [31]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Autistic CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, Body Dysphoria, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 Echo Needs A Hug, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 Echo Whump, Comfortember 2020, Drug Addiction, Experimentation, Gen, Ghost CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555, Human Experimentation, Hunter (Star Wars) is a Good Bro, Mentioned CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Torture, Touch-Starved, Unethical Experimentation, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:03:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27725894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MageOfCole/pseuds/MageOfCole
Summary: Echo is afraid to sleep, he's afraid to remember what had happened to him. When his eyes are closed, he remembers the feeling of slowly becoming less than human one piece at a time, the memory of every painful moment as his body is pulled apart and replaced.(No.31 - Today's Special: Torture)(No.10 - Crying)
Relationships: CT-1409 | Echo & Hunter (Star Wars: The Clone Wars), CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives, Cutup & Droidbait & Echo & Fives & Hevy (Star Wars)
Series: Cole Does Whumptober 2020 [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949908
Comments: 28
Kudos: 108





	i'm a soldier (wounded so i must give up the fight)

Echo is afraid to sleep. Everytime he closes his eyes, he’s back _there_ \- he’s pinned down on that table, with Wat Tambor’s cold eyes staring down at him as his droid cuts into him, peeling back his burnt skin so that they could study his healing capabilities. He’s forced to watch, all over again, as the droids saw into his skin and remove his damaged limbs. He can’t scream, he can’t move, but he can feel every painful moment as his legs are pulled away at the thighs and his arm at the elbow. He feels the metal being anchored to his bones, drilling into his neck and spine and hips by cold unfeeling droids.

When his eyes are closed, he remembers the feeling of becoming less than human one piece at a time. He remembers his humanity being stripped away until his captors realize that they could have another use for him beyond that of an experiment. Echo remembers the terror he had felt as a computer was drilled into his head. He remembers the cyropod looming over him as he’s wheeled forward on the gurney, the pain of each cord being plugged into his brain, before everything that made him _Echo_ was gone, swept away by a sea of numbers and statistics.

Those memories come back every time he lets himself drift off, to the point that Echo can’t get a proper amount of rest to let his body heal unless he’s been sedated. He’s come to depend on it to sleep, and he knows that his new team is worrying about this. They all need it, occasionally; Hunter’s senses get overwhelming, Tech’s mind works too fast for even him to keep up with, Wrecker get overstimulated and can’t bring himself down from the high, sometimes Crosshair’s aggression turns inwards and it’s the only way to keep him from getting hurt. They all have something that needs to be sedated sometimes, Echo’s just one more messed up trooper among a batch of messed up troopers.

But he’s the only one who can’t sleep without it. He craves the emptiness of the sedative, he _needs_ it. It makes him forget, for a time, that he had been left behind to die, even if no one had known that he had survived his desperate run to get to the shuttle. It lets him forget the agony he lives with every day, the ache from limbs that no longer existed and the drag of too-heavy prosthetics that they can’t replace without the proper parts. It chases away the knowledge that he’s alone.

Echo’s not a reg, not anymore, and not after what the Techno Union did to him. He doesn’t fit in among the 501st as it is now, as much as he wishes he could be. He’s not a mutie either. He wasn’t decanted with his differences like the rest of Clone Force 99, they were an after-product of a different sort of experimentation than what made the others the way they are.

Echo’s an outsider even among outsiders, and it makes him homesick. To him, home had never been a place - it had been people. It had been the 501st, and before them it had been Domino Squad. Home had been following behind Hevy and Fives. Back on Kamino, the two of them had constantly led them into trouble, though it wasn’t to say that Echo didn’t start his own brand - he tended to get nervous and he’d let his mouth get away with him, but Echo was just as capable of talking his way out of trouble as he was talking into it - but Hevy and Fives both had an easy sort of charisma to them that Echo would never have. Home had been snarky Cutup and that annoying accent he picked up from watching some silly holodrama some of the trainers liked. It had been clumsy and painfully shy Droidbait who hated the name he had been given with a passion but wanted it to mean more beyond always being the first shot during training.

But they’re all dead now; Droidbait, Cutup, and Hevy had died on Rishi, before they could see the Galaxy. The 501st has gone through so many changes and so many losses that the brothers he knew is a mere handful compared to what it had been.

 _Fives_ \- Fives had died while Echo wasn’t there to watch his back. Echo had known Fives was dead almost immediately, he had figured it out when he’d realized that Fives wasn’t there when he woke up after being pulled from the cyropod; he never would have let Rex run off on a half-cocked rescue mission without him. Rex had been hesitant, but he had ended up telling him what had happened.

He had known that Fives was dead, but he never could have been prepared for how.

Fives had lost touch with reality after too many losses and too much combat stress, and had tried to kill the Chancellor. That was the official story, but not one Echo had believed, and neither had Kix, who had told him Fives’ wild conspiracy about a chip in their heads.

Fives had been killed by a brother, he had been shot by the Coruscant Guards and died in Rex’s arms. Fives is dead. He had died when Echo hadn’t been there. He had died thinking that Echo was waiting for him on the other side. Echo hadn’t known he was the last Domino until it was far too late.

His last image of Fives will always be that last glimpse he got of his brother before the shuttle blew up, when he had heard Fives shouting for him to look out, right before heat had licked his spine and the force of the explosion had swept him clean off his feet and thrown him, and all his nightmares had begun. That would always be his last memory of his brother. It wouldn’t be his smile or his laugh, it wouldn’t be his skill in battle or his sharp mind that would be the thing that stayed with him forever. No, it would be his fear. It would be Fives screaming for him to _look out_ and the ringing sound of his own name. It’s the backdrop of his nightmares, mixing with his own screams as he’s taken apart piece by piece, as portions of his brain are scooped out of his skull to make room for a tactical computer.

Fives would have been horrified by what he’s become. He’s half-droid now, not even human anymore, and for a man who had always been one face in a sea of thousands, his forced individuality makes him feel sick. _Echo’s_ horrified by what’s become of him. He looks in the mirror now and doesn’t know who he’s seeing. He doesn’t look like himself, he doesn’t look like a clone, and he hates it.

He hates himself.

“Echo.”

The cyborg is jolted from his thoughts, flinching as he tightens his hold on the hypo in his hands, turning to see that Hunter had stepped into the room that had been assigned to him on the Havoc Marauder when he had joined Clone Force 99. The frown on the sergeant’s face pulls at his tattoo, and he watches Echo with dark eyes. His long hair had been pulled off his face, and he’s wearing his soft sleep clothes, so he must have been getting ready to turn in when he’d decided to come see Echo. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he leans against the door frame.

“Hunter.” Echo greets quietly, averting his eyes to stare at his shaking hands instead.

“You know that’s not actually helping.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement, and it makes Echo stiffen.

“It helps me sleep.”

“It’s not helping you heal.” Hunter says simply, and Echo grits his teeth. “All you’re doing is putting off dealing with the problem.”

Stung by the truth but not willing to admit it, Echo glares over his shoulder to see that Hunter had moved closer while they had been talking. “I _need_ it.”

Hunter raises an eyebrow, slowly choreographing his movement as he lifts his hand to place it on his shoulder. The heat of another person’s touch chases away the phantom chill of the cyropod, and Echo finds himself relaxing despite himself, eyes prickling with unshed tears. “You _don’t_ , Echo.” Hunter tells him truthfully, squeezing his bony shoulder, but not enough to actually hurt. “You’re dependent on it, but you don’t need it.” Echo unconsciously leans into the kind touch, feeling as if he could shake apart. “You can’t lose yourself to this.” Hunter says gently, and Echo lets him pry the hypo out of his numb hands. “We’re here for you, brother.”

Echo falls apart with a sob that tears at his throat and makes the implants drilled into his chest and skull ache. If not for the man next to him, he'd have collapsed when his knees gave out on him. Hunter gathers him to his chest in a hug, and Echo tucks his head to the sergeant’s broad shoulder, hiding his tears and forcing himself to breath.

If he closes his eyes, he can pretend it’s Fives hugging him as he cries and rubbing his back, he can pretend it's Fives he smells.


End file.
